


Festis bei umo canavarum

by itzteegan



Series: Kinktober 2019 [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Dildos, Dom The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Dom/sub, Fingerfucking, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, Massage, Oil, Overstimulation, Prostate Massage, Sub Dorian Pavus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 09:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20964467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzteegan/pseuds/itzteegan
Summary: Festis bei umo canavarum - You will be the death of meNobody can take apart Dorian quite like The Iron Bull





	Festis bei umo canavarum

**Author's Note:**

> Day 9: Overstimulation

The smell of the wooden desk filled Dorian’s nostrils, the recently oiled wood smooth under his bare skin. He opened and closed his hands, flexing his muscles, mildly testing the strength of the rope that tied him down. In this position, he didn’t even need to be blindfolded as he couldn’t see what The Iron Bull was doing behind him. It was a certain thrill, he had to admit, tied naked, bent over against a desk, open and vulnerable to the whims of his lover. He still had the watchword, of course, but between his curiousity and his arousal, he doubted he would even have use of it.

He almost jumped to feel a wide, warm hand rest against the small of his back, startled only because he’d been unaware The Bull was actually that close to him. Despite his size, he could be as silent as a shadow, and it seemed that spying was not the only use for his Ben-Hassrath training. “Easy,” his lover intoned, voice deep but soft, and Dorian instantly relaxed once again. Despite the odd position of being tied down face first and spread-eagled against a desk, it wasn’t a wholly uncomfortable position. The Bull had made sure that the edge of the desk didn’t cut into him and that he could properly rest his entire body weight against it, should he wish. For now, he still kept some of his weight on his legs, just because he liked to be a little defiant. If The Bull noticed, he didn’t say anything as his large hand lightly swept up and over Dorian’s shoulders before skirting down his back and over the curve of his ass. The mage couldn’t help the smirk at feeling the cupping action. He often stated his buttocks were one of his best features, and while some might have thought him joking, he was usually quite serious about it. He frowned when the large hand retreated, but he wasn’t left waiting for long.

The warm oil against his back had him gasp from its sudden – though far from unwelcome – appearance. He bit the inside of his lip to stifle the moan that wanted to make an appearance as those calloused hands worked the oil into his skin, making his dark hue glisten in the candlelight in a way that Dorian almost wanted to see for himself. It seemed strange, almost, to be tied up in this position just for a massage, but he’d never questioned The Bull’s methods yet, and he’d always enjoyed their encounters. So, odd as it may have seemed, he only sighed in relaxation, enjoying the massaging caress of his lover.

A smile tugged at his lips as The Bull’s hands roamed noticeably lower, grazing over the curve of his ass before a stray finger tucked itself inside the cleft. He didn’t penetrate him just yet, no, just rubbed around the orifice, teasing the action as his other hand dipped lower still and gently grasped his cock. Dorian’s eyes fluttered closed as his lover simultaneously worked two fingers into him as he jacked him off, his member hardening by the moment, and when he finally found that certain spot within him … Dorian hissed as he was officially at full mast now. He wanted so badly for The Bull to just go ahead and fuck him, but he knew that was foolhardy to both hope and voice. He would go at his own pace, and no amount of begging from Dorian would get him to sway from his path. If anything, he would enjoy it more, knowing how desperate his mage lover was, and Dorian refused to give him that kind of satisfaction. Yet, anyway. He could be damn stubborn if he wanted, but there were some things even he couldn’t outlast. The night would yet see.

While he made no moves to penetrate him further, Dorian certainly didn’t mind what he was doing at the current moment, his breathing picking up as he couldn’t help a moan here or there. Even with as simple movements as what The Bull was doing, the consistency of his pace was slowly starting to drive Dorian up the walls … metaphorically, of course. Had he not vastly preferred his hair the way it was – and also had his hands not been tied to a desk at the moment – he would have torn the dark tresses from his head in frustration. The fingers in his ass and the hand on his dick was lovely, as it always ever was, but he needed _m_ore. The Bull knew it, too, knew him far more than Dorian was truly comfortable with if he sat down and thought about it overly long. And yet he persisted, persisted until it seemed like he was overcoming that plateau with the way he was being stroked. But just when he started to approach that edge, The Bull withdrew and Dorian found himself leaning as far back as he could, whining at the loss of contact and the pleasurable orgasm that he just knew had been in store for him. Of course it couldn’t have been that easy, he wouldn’t have been tied down and toyed with if The Bull had figured on a quick romp. But the loss was still difficult to comprehend with how heady and hazy his mind had been. He thought he heard The Bull chuckle, but he couldn’t be sure, even as a large hand rested against one shiny, immaculate buttock.

“Easy,” he told him, his hand a comforting anchor as Dorian breathed deeply through his nose to try to calm himself as much as possible in such a situation. A new touch nearly had him jumping out of his skin, but his brow furrowed instead as it seemed plain that it wasn’t The Bull’s hand – or any other part of his body – that did so. Instead, the texture was flat and smooth, and the object was hard and unyielding, and even if he turned his head as far as it would go, he doubted he would have been able to see it. But, he continued to trust The Bull as he ran the object over his back, making nonsensical patterns in the oiled skin before it dipped lower, between his cleft, and Dorian sucked in a breath to feel it start to penetrate him.

It wasn’t as long or as thick as The Bull, but it wasn’t that small, either, and he had to actively work to relax himself and accept the intrusion. It was thicker than the two fingers that had previously been in the orifice, and if Dorian had been a praying man he’d have offered up a supplication to the Maker that it seemed like progress was being made. This time, instead of holding back, he moaned loudly, hoping that it would spur on his lover even further. And, for a time, it seemed to work, as The Bull set a nice pace for him that had him keening against the wood of the desk. Yes, this was _much_ better, his orgasm building much more steadily than before, with less effort. His body laid lax on the desk, his thighs starting to tremble both from sensation and from the effort of keeping his weight upright. He was still determined to not give in and sag against the desk, as effortless as that would be, and so he clenched his fists and fought through the cramps threatening to make him submit. He refused to give in just yet, holding out for nothing more than stubborn pride. Suddenly, however, the pace slowed down, and Dorian couldn’t help the whimper. He pushed back with his hips as much as the ropes would allow, but The Bull didn’t allow any action that he himself wasn’t doling out. Dorian rested his forehead against the desk, keening protest, but all that earned him was a pinch to the thigh and nails raked over the sensitive flesh of his hip as The Bull started up the pace once more.

Over and over they continued like this, The Bull pushing and pushing until he just reached the cusp of that edge and then yanking him back, the crescendo of pleasure falling so swiftly, that after the fourth time – or was it the fifth time? Dorian could no longer keep track – the mage actually let out a sob. His nerves were on fire, his muscles taut and cramping, and after the last go round, he finally sagged against the desk, unable to hold himself upright with his own legs anymore. A small chuckle from behind was all he could hear, and he hoped bloody well that this was what The Bull wanted because he was simultaneously in ecstasy and agony. Every drop of sweat rested like pinpricks against his skin, the soft rope suddenly feeling like it was chaffing. His body trembled, and as The Bull settled a hand against his hip once more, he moaned, though he wasn’t sure if it was in pain or in pleasure anymore. That orgasm that he’d been ready and raring for when the session began, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted it anymore, wasn’t sure if he could take that level of stimulation. Tears leaked from his eyes, unbidden, and The Bull’s voice floated to him as if in a dream. “Dorian? You want to stop?”

And just like that, his stubbornness kicked in once more and he furiously shook his head. This refusal still came with a caveat, however, as he tossed aside his pride and begged, his voice cracking, “Please, Bull, I can’t take much more. I need … I need this to _end_.” He heard The Bull shift behind him, and when he couldn’t immediately tell what he was doing, he added, “Please, Amatus.”

Another deep chuckle. “There we go, now was that so hard?”

Dorian didn’t get a chance to respond, as the toy was immediately removed and replaced with something much larger and thicker and more satisfying. He cried out as his lover fully sheathed himself, his large hand grasping the back of Dorian’s hair as he wasted no time with a slow build. It seemed they were both well past that, and even if he tried, Dorian couldn’t have helped the stream of moans and gasps and curses and mumbles that flowed from his lips like a stream in the wilds. Though he was physically tied down, in his mind he was fully unrestrained, something that only The Iron Bull could provoke in him, could tear down his walls brick by brick, leaving him exposed and raw and wanting. He came untouched, shooting white jets against the dark, polished wood, The Bull mercifully following not long after. And though he trembled and sobbed until The Bull cut his bonds and laid him out on the bed, massaging the feeling back into his limbs, he could truly say that the end result was well worth the effort.

_Perhaps,_ he wondered absently to himself, a grin tugging at his lips, _perhaps I should be more stubborn more often_.


End file.
